The Sleepwalker
by Larabeara
Summary: When Blaine stays over at the Hummel-Hudson's, they all learn something new about their favourite curly-haired teenager.


** Hola! I'm really sorry I haven't posted anything on Father Figure in a while, I just haven't had many ideas lately. I'm still working on it though! This is just a little one-shot I came up with, like, twenty minutes ago. So anyway, here we go!**

** Quick note, this takes place a little while after Kurt and Blaine get together, so Burt and Carole don't really know him that well.**

** Disclaimer: I in no way own Glee. All credit goes to Ryan Murphey!**

**-0-0-0-**

Burt jumped to his feet, pumping his fist in the air. He cheered along with every other person in the football stadium. Some people were even dancing. There was one person in particular, a tall asian, who was busting out some pretty cool moves.

"Yeah!" Burt turned his head, a huge smile on his face. There stood his step-son, just as bright of a grin on his face, his hand raised for a fist-bump. Burt gladly compiled, laughing happily.

Suddenly, there was a tug on his shirt. Burt turned, and saw Kurt, his four year old son. "Daddy," Kurt said, flashing his angelic eyes at him. "can we go home now? I'm bored."

"Yeah," Burt nodded. "we'll go soon, bud. Just gotta finish the game." Burt turned back to the stadium.

A loud voice sounded over the speakers. "There's been a change in the rules, folks! We will from now on be using glass balls!" Burt frowned. That didn't sound very safe.

"That's not safe." Elisabeth's voice seemed to echo. Burt looked around frantically for her, but couldn't see her. Suddenly, the stadium was empty. He was alone.

"Lizzy?" Burt called. No one answered. The only sound he got in return was the sound of shattering glass.

"Burt!" Now it was Carole. She sounded frantic, and Burt wanted to help her, but he couldn't see her. "Burt! Wake up!"

With a gasp, Burt's eyes flew open. His eyes were blurry for a moment, but they slowly cleared. _Dream_, he realized with a sigh.

"Burt!" His real wife was sitting next to him in bed, gently shaking his shoulder. Burt squinted his eyes at her for a minute, then glanced at his alarm clock.

"What's wrong?" Now he was alert. "It's three in the morning. What happened?"

Carole's eyes, eyes Burt loved so, were wide with concern and… Fear?

"Something glass smashed downstairs." Carole whispered. "There's a good chance it was one of the boys, but…"  
Burt knew the but. They both knew the idea of an intruder being in their house, in _Lima_, was very unlikely, but the possibility was still scary.

"I'll go check," Burt volunteered immediately. Carole nodded, and Burt was off.

His stiff legs cracked in protest as he slowly made his way to Finn's room. Burt slowly creaked the door open, taking in the clothes and plates messily thrown around the room. After squinting for a moment, he made out the big lump of his step-son sprawled out across his bed.

_Not Finn_, Burt noted. That thought wasn't reassuring; normally if something were to break, it was Finn's fault. Although, there was that one time that Blaine broke that picture frame-

Blaine. Burt remembered that the curly haired, short, innocence stealing teenager was also in his house. Blaine's parents were away on a week long business trip, and didn't feel comfortable leaving their just barely sixteen year old home alone for an entire week, so Burt and Carole offered to house him. He was on strict instructions to stay on the couch, and Kurt was on even stricter to stay in his room. There was no way Burt was going to encourage the two teenagers to, _y'know_, by letting them stay in the same room.

Burt quickly checked Kurt's perfectly clean and organized room, noticing the little lump in the center of his big bed. That knocked Kurt off the list, leaving only Blaine or intruder.

As quietly as he could, Burt crept down the stairs. He turned the hallway light on, only to see nothing but family pictures and some absurd decorations Kurt had picked out.

Burt turned the lights on in the living room, and found Blaine missing, crumpled up blankets and his pillow on the floor. _So it was Blaine_.

Burt quickly made his way to the kitchen, and sure enough, there Blaine was. His hair was a wild mess of curls, and his button-up pajamas were frumpled. But, that wasn't the strangest thing about his appearance.

Blaine's eyes were glossy, and seemed to look right past Burt.

"Blaine?" Burt asked incredulously. Blaine didn't respond. Only then did he take in the appearance of his kitchen; what looked like an entire box of lucky charms were spilled out onto the table, with a good amount of milk soaking them; there were at least fifteen spoons in the pile; and there was a broken glass at Blaine's feet.

"Here…" Blaine mumbled, nearly incomprehensibly. "Got it. With the… With the note… No…"

"Kid?" Burt was now alarmed, more so than when he thought there may have been a burglar in his house. "What's going on? Can you hear me?"

Blaine looked at him then, but didn't really seem to acknowledge him. "I… Don't. Not yet… Need a minute." Then Blaine took a step, very narrowly avoiding a large chunk of glass.

"Woah!" Burt exclaimed. He stepped forward and grabbed Blaine by the shoulders, trying to steep him away from the glass. Blaine wouldn't budge though. He just kept mumbling and looking around the room in a dazed, confused manor.

He then took another step forward, but just before the could step on a piece of glass, Burt hauled him into his arms.

"Jeez, kid!" Burt said. "What's wrong with you?" When Blaine just continued muttering, his head lolling from side to side, Burt decided that he needed help.

As Burt quickly made his way up the stairs (Blaine was really light and tiny, something that made carrying him very easy), Blaine reached his hand up and started poking Burt's cheek.

"Mom," Blaine sighed happily, continuing to prod his face. "M'Missed you."

Burt nudged his bedroom door open with his toe, attempting to lean away from Blaine's touch, and entered the room. Carole immediately got up when Burt set the swaying teen on the bed.

"What happened?" Carole asked urgently. She was eyeing Blaine with worried eyes, her mouth parted slightly.

"I have no idea!" Burt whisper-exclaimed. "There's a mess in the kitchen, and Blaine was just standing beside a broken glass! He won't answer me and he keeps muttering!"  
As if proving Burt's point, Blaine said, "He's dead. Kur-We buried him."

Carole took one look at the boys' glassy eyes and sighed, relief washing over her features. "He's sleepwalking." She explained.

"Sleepwalking?" Burt asked, eyeing the teen closely. "Do we just wake him up then?"

"No, you can't wake him up. He could either hurt himself or one of us if we do that."

"Really?" Burt asked, confused.

"Yes. We just need to get him back to bed, and then he'll be fine." Carole smiled at Blaine, who still just had a blank look on his face.

"Alright." Burt gently scooped Blaine back into his arms, groaning when the boy began poking him again. Carole laughed quietly and added, "Boy will he be embarrassed tomorrow."

Carole trailed behind Burt and Blaine, tucking his in when Burt placed him back on the couch. "You can head back to bed," She said. "I'm just going to make sure he falls back asleep, and clean up at least the glass. We can get the rest tomorrow."

Burt, now tired, didn't need to be told twice. He headed back upstairs, into his comfy bed. Carole joined him about ten minutes later, and the two fell asleep again.

**-0-0-0-**

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." Blaine slowly stirred. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of Kurt. It was like waking up to an angel.

"Good morning," Blaine said sleepily, yawning. "What time is it?"

"About seven." Kurt answered. "No one else is awake yet. Wanna help me make breakfast?"

Blaine wiped the sleep from his eyes and nodded sloppily, making Kurt giggle. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, grabbing Kurt's hand and allowing himself to be pulled into the kitchen.

When Kurt stopped in his tracks, so did Blaine. He was confused for a moment, before he followed Kurt's eyes. He was staring at the kitchen table, which was… Covered in wet cereal?

"What the?" Blaine asked, brows furrowed. At that moment, Burt walked into the kitchen. He too looked confused for a moment, but then started laughing.

"Dad, what's going on?" As Kurt asked that, Carole appeared behind Burt. She, too, giggle as Burt said, "Why don't you ask Blaine?"

Blaine looked lost for a moment, before his face slowly started changing colour. First his face turned white, and then a deep red. His mouth closed and opened like a fish, before he found the right words. "I-I'm so sorry."

Burt started laughing even harder, and Carole hit his arm. "It's alright, sweetie. It wasn't your fault."

Kurt grew annoyed. "What's going on?

"Apparently Blaine sleepwalks." Burt answered. Blaine's face was so red Burt though he may explode.

"You did this?" Kurt asked, turning to stare at Blaine. Blaine squeaked slightly, "I-I was dreaming about making breakfast for my Mom, and… Something about Pavarotti?" Suddenly, he turned to Burt, a look of pure horror on his face.

Burt struggled not to laugh. "Do I look like your Mom?"

Blaine shook his head quickly, still gaping. Finally, he said. "I'm so sorry for poking you. I'm not even sure what I was dreaming about."

Suddenly Kurt started laughing. He tried to stifle it. "You were poking my Dad?"

Blaine chose to ignore him. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Hummel. I-I'm… I mean, I haven't sleepwalked since I was fourteen! Oh, God, this is so embarrassing." He hung his head, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

"S'Alright, kid." Burt chuckled. "But you owe me a box of Lucky Charms, a jug of milk, and a glass."

**-0-0-0-**

A week later, when the Anderson's returned, the Hummle-Hudson got a thank-you letter, a box of Lucky Charms, a gallon of milk, and a new set of glasses.


End file.
